I worked for at least 3 hours on j.'s Solstice gift last night. It is coming out really well, and I'm happy with it, but it's taking too long. I think I'm more than 1/2 done ... I think. But this is only the first one. I still haven't started e.'s. I have a project planned for Beloved, as well, but I don't know if I'm going to get to work on it.

I am using some of her old artwork from preschool and kindergarten, and pictures from those times as well. she used to be such a little girl. To spend that time with her photos from her 4th birthday, with the cherubic little face she had, and all the chub on her cute little self, and then to emerge from the cave in which I'm doing my work, and see this tall, lanky, athletic looking girl - it's disorienting.

J. and I were supposed to have a book group gathering tonight - we were just having a Latke party at one of the members' houses - no book discussion. But the hostess's daughter woke with a fever today, and so it looks like it will be canceled. I am a little nervous. This girl slept over our house on Friday night, and there are reports of some nasty, nasty bugs going around (a few towns over). If we are going to get it this week, I'm going to cry. First of all - I don't think that either Beloved OR I can comfortably take the time off from work. I say that because my job is temporary, and his is not, I should take off the time, but when it comes down to it, I get freaked out when I need to miss work. I have a work ethic to a fault (so I'm told).

When I was in high school, I did not do sports, I did not act, I did not play an instrument, I wasn't in student government --- I worked. I worked on the weekends, and after school, and often more than one job. I worked with my father first, where I formed, I suppose, this work ethic of mine. He was often out the door at 6 a.m., and worked hard. He hardly ever got sick, and i think only once in his LIFE didn't go to work b/c of an illness. His boss was(is) a freak, and if someone DID miss work, the man would go on a RAMPAGE.

And so now, here I am, with the work ethic from hell. "What do you MEAN I need to stay home and nurse a puking child? I can't!!! I must go to work!!!!" Yeah, right.

I'm sure the girls will be fine. And if they do catch a bug that may, or may not, be going aroudn - then this office will be MORE than fine without their silly little intern.

Besides, throughout my entire life, I get sick on CHRISTMAS. And now, following my footsteps, so will my children. We've already had at least two Christmases where the illnesses were pretty extreme. Once in 1998, while we were in California - my parents came to town and brought a nasty flu with them. We had 104 degree fevers --- me, my dad (he didn't go to work THAT day! Although he may have, if he was in the proper state), poor little 7 month old J., and 2 year old E. We have pictures. We all look pathetic. And then 2 years ago, in 2004, we went to my parents' for Christmas, and my sister was there from CA, and e. puked all over the living room. Then it hit J. on the day we were due to drive back home, and so I had to bundle her up in the backseat, with a little garbage pail on the floor "Just in case." Then, while driving home (Beloved had to go home earlier than us for work), it hit me, and when we drove up to the house, I left everything (and everyone) in the car, ran in the house, yelled at beloved to go and look after the kids, and promptly puked into the toilet.

That was fun.

Ahhh Christmas.

And now just talking about allo f this, I think I have a slight headache, and some nausea. Ooooooohhhh, woe is me.